75

Salt and Tears

Candle stood on the hillside watching the rolling waters in the bay below gradually return to calm. Asher appeared at her side, his eyes wide as he looked down at the sea.

"Are you alright?"

Instead of answering him, Candle started climbing the path to the castle, her thoughts tumbling over each other like leaves in a tempest.

"Yes, of course," she said, with feigned lightness, as he followed her up the track, "why wouldn't I be?"

"That was Morwagr." His eyes darted nervously over his shoulder to the waves below, as if the strange woman might reappear at any moment. "What did she say? What did she want?"

"I don't know," Candle lied, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other for the steep climb. But she knew Asher wouldn't leave her alone unless she made something up. "I didn't understand what she said. But she didn't hurt me. I'm fine. It was odd." That at least was true. She paused, unable to think of anything better to say. "I just want to go and sleep now. It's been a strange day." She glanced at Asher and then down at the deserted remains of the market. The bonfire was smoking fitfully in a melancholic pile, its light a sullen orange glow. "Did you see what happened to Zephi and Murmux?"

His eyes darkened at the mention of her friends.

"No," he said. "Perhaps they went back to the castle. But if you are tired let me escort you back to your room."

"That's not necessary," said Candle, setting off again, "and anyway, I feel like a walk."

She carried on up the path but to her annoyance, Asher followed her anyway. She had been sure he would prefer to fly, but then perhaps she should have known better considering their recent trek across the isthmus.

The sky overhead was thick with clouds and gliding dragons, and a soft rain began to fall. The steep path became slick and difficult to navigate, and they were both damp through by the time they reached the shelter of the castle walls. Inside, the castle was buzzing with activity, as people took shelter from the elements. They pushed their way through the crowds and up the maze of stairs without speaking. Candle breathed a sigh of relief when they reached her rooms.

She turned on the doorstep, eager to say goodnight, and found herself nose to nose with Asher. Well, nose to chest, since he was considerably taller. She had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"You are sure you won't come to the party?" He said, golden eyes crinkling. "I will miss you."

"I really am tired," she said, which was another lie. Her veins were full of lightning, so anxious was she to go home. Her eyes softened as she looked at Asher. If all went according to plan she would never see him again. She leaned up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes went wide.

"Goodnight," she said. "Goodbye, and thank you." She turned to go but he put one hand on her arm, holding her back. Her muscles tensed, but she forced herself to relax.

"I bought you a present," said Asher, delving into a pocket with his free hand. Candle felt her cheeks warm.

"You did? I mean – you didn't need to­–"

He opened his fingers, and for a moment Candle was dazzled by the golden glow of magic. Cupped in his open palm was one of the pendants from the Night Market. Barely the size of dust motes, she could just make out the outline of the tiny spirits as they beat their wings against the enclosed glass orb of their prison. She swallowed, watching in fascination. The effect was beautiful.

"I really can't accept that."

"Of course you can," he said, and placed the pendant around her neck, lifting her hair to fasten the clasp. The jewellery felt warm against her skin and she fancied she could feel the flutter of tiny wings against her breast. The light they cast made the brown of her skin glow golden.

"Thank you," she said, a little overwhelmed. She could count the presents she had received in her life on one hand.

"You're welcome," said Asher, his face breaking into a smile. He hesitated. "Are you sure I can't persuade you to come to the party?"

"No...I really am too tired." A part of her was regretful – the part that wanted to experience the things that other people her own age seemed to – parties, friends, love. A part of her regretted having to say goodbye to Asher forever, but the part of her that wanted to go home was bigger. She was ready to see Jotham and her friends in the Own. Granted – Locryn would probably shoot her in the face the next time he saw her but she hoped she would be able to explain what had happened with Belias. The Night Nation was beautiful, in its way – beautiful and deadly – but she was ready to feel the sun on her face again.

"Goodnight, Asher," she said, and shut the door in his hopeful face.

Once inside, she leaned back against the wooden frame and breathed in a deep sigh. Waiting, she listened for the footfalls that would indicate his exit. Once she was sure he had gone she looped the necklace over her head, and held it up to study it. The golden light of the Dawn spirits within bathed her hands and face in their buttery glow. She wondered at the craftsmanship for a moment, before smashing the glass against the stone wall beside her.

The pendant shattered with a satisfying crack and the tiny spirits flew free, buzzing and humming around her. She smiled as they careened through the air, turning cartwheels and spinning with wild abandon.

"Be free, little friends," she murmured and they made their way out to the open ledge. Their light was soon lost in the gloom of the rainy night. Her mood was considerably lighter as she walked through the chambers looking for Zephi. She located the small girl curled in a chair, fast asleep and Candle covered her with a blanket without waking her. The rooms were very quiet. No one else seemed to be around which was a little disconcerting. Candle had become used to the bustle and companionship of others and the space felt large and empty. She checked the inner rooms and found them likewise vacant. Worry was about to set in when Narimab pushed open the door.

"There you are, Candle," she said, "I've been looking for you."

"I've been wanting to talk to you," they both said, at the same time.

"You first," said Candle, with a smile. "Is everyone alright? Where is everyone?"

"Everything is fine," said Narimab, moving into the room and sitting down on one of the fine couches. She patted the seat next to her. "We moved down to the human quarters in the bedrock."

"What? Why?"

"Murmux told us everything."

"He what?" Candle felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. Had she heard right? "Where is he anyway? And what exactly did he tell you?"

"He told us that you need to leave tonight," Narimab, squeezed Candle's shoulder reassuringly. Candle stared, feeling a little strange. Had she ever articulated her plan to Murmux? She didn't think so.

"I don't understand," she said. "Why would he tell you that?"

Narimab looked at her knowingly, her eyes warm.

"It's alright, dear one," she said. "We know. We know everything. We know you are human, well half-human. I mean, it explains a lot. No dragon-born would treat us like you do."

"I've always known," said Zephi, yawning in her blankets and stretching her arms. She rubbed a fist into one sleepy eye. "But then, I know everything. What's going on?"

"Go back to sleep, child," said Narimab. "Candle and I are just having a chat." She turned back to Candle, her eyes solemn. "Murmux told us you are not from here."

Candle's eyes narrowed. What was Murmux up to? What was he trying to manipulate her into? "You know I've never been to Angarrack before," she said, sharply. "I've made no secret of the fact."

"We know you are from the Day Nation."

"What!" Zephi, sat up, pushing the blanket from her lap.

"Don't look so shocked. You were planning on telling us anyway, weren't you?"

Candle shut her mouth.

"Yes," she said, trying to untangle the ball of emotions in her stomach. "I suppose I was. I suppose Murmux saved me the trouble. Although I wish he had let me break the news. I'm sorry it's such short notice, but I didn't want anyone to slip up and say something without–"

"We don't want to go," said Narimab. Candle blinked at her. "We talked about it, all of us and we want to stay here, at Angarrack."

"What?" Candle sat back on her heels.

"We want to stay here," repeated Narimab. All the things Candle had been about to say, the speech she had been rehearsing in her mind for the past twenty-four hours dissolved like ash on her tongue.

"It's not a bad place." Narimab crossed her hands primly on her lap. "We've been speaking to the other humans, the ones who work in the castle, the ones who have lived here a long time. They get treated well enough."

"But – that cell in the bedrock," said Candle, perplexed. "It isn't fit for living."

"It's just for the duration of the Festival," said Narimab, "those aren't permanent quarters."

"And the ... heads..."

Narimab pursed her lips together. "I've seen worse," she said. "At the Necromancer's Keep, and in the wilds of the Night. But I am satisfied that the humans here are treated well enough. Looked down on, perhaps, but they are fed and clothed and are safe from the Good Folk. They are protected. We could do worse for ourselves." Narimab looked up at Candle, and put her hand on the girl's shoulder, squeezing it briefly. "We know you were going to ask us to come with you," she said, "and we know it would be a difficult journey... to another place. And we appreciate that you are trying to care for us. We are grateful."

"I'm not grateful," muttered Zephi. "I'm not staying here if Candle isn't."

"Hush, child," said Narimab, turning back to Candle and taking her hand, "But most importantly – we all have loved ones, here in the Night Nation. If we go with you we will never see them again. We know it's a one-way trip." Candle stared into the pale, careworn face of the woman opposite her, the face of the woman who had become dear to her in the brief time they had known each other. "You understand that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," said Candle. She was fairly sure Locryn would shoot her next time he saw her, but the thought of never seeing him, or Delen or Jory or Pasco again made her heart ache. The thought of never seeing Jotham again, of not knowing if he lived or died was unbearable. "I do understand," she said. "I will just miss you all." Narimab's eyes glittered with emotion.

"And we will miss you too," she said. "We will never forget what you did for us. We owe our lives to you."

"What about me!" Zephi cried, stamping one foot on the stone floor. Tears started in the corner of her large dark eyes. "You can't leave me behind, Candle? You promised you would be my friend. You promised!"

Candle crouched down to her level, taking Zephi's hands in her own.

"The way I am going will be dangerous," she said. "You would be safer here, with Narimab."

"I don't care," said Zephi, her lower lip trembling.

"The Day Nation is very different from here," said Candle. "I don't know if you would be happy."

"Different how?"

"The night is only twelve hours long, sometimes less. The rest of the time the sun shines brightly." She tucked a strand of red hair behind Zephi's ear. "It will hurt your eyes."

"I don't care," Zephi said, her mouth set in a stubborn line. "I want to stay with you, Candle. Please let me come with you."

Tears stung Candle's eyes and she pulled the child into a hug.

"If you want to come, you can come," she said, into the cloud of red hair. She looked up at Narimab.

"Are you sure, Nari?"

"Yes, child. We will miss you, of course. I will miss you both."

"I will miss you too," said Candle. But she couldn't deny, a weight felt like it had been lifted from her shoulders. It would be so much easier to sneak away without having to worry about twenty or so humans, some of them very young.

"When are we going to say goodbye to Zeb and Asher?" Zephi asked, snuggling into Candle's side.

"We're not," said Candle, sharply. "It's a secret, alright? We can't let them know."

"Why not?"

"Because the dragons believe they have a god-given right to rule over everything," said Narimab, her voice hard. "And in the Day Nation, I believe humans are free?" Candle nodded and Zephi made a small 'o' of amazement with her mouth. "I would like to know," Narimab said, hesitantly, "if you don't think it's too bold of me to ask... how you came to have dragon blood in your veins."

"The Lady Hezikiah is my great aunt, many times removed," said Candle. Narimab's mouth dropped open, mirroring Zephi's expression of shock. "My great-great something grandmother was her sister. It is her head that hangs on the wall of that Night-cursed gallery." Candle's fists balled at her side. "How it came to be there – I do not know the tale. But whatever it is it is unforgivable."

"That... that is quite a story," said Narimab after a long moment. They were all quiet for a long moment as they pondered. Candle's eyes narrowed.

"Speaking of interesting stories," she said, "where is Murmux?" It was high time they had a talk. She wasn't sure how she felt about him telling everyone her secrets. Even if it had solved one of her most pressing problems. "When did you last see him?"

"Hours past," said Narimab. "Before you all went to the market." She got up dusting her knees off and looked at Candle, her expression tender. "If we do not meet again in this life," she said. "It was a pleasure knowing you. I will leave you to your preparations, and may the Old Gods bless your journey."

They said their farewells and once Candle had coaxed Zephi back into her blankets she set about searching for Murmux, but the lighting bird was nowhere to be found. She packed a small bag, hoping he would turn up while she gathered her meagre possessions but he didn't. Sleep was out of the question so while she waited she busied herself burning the last of her artworks. Hopefully, she would not need to ask her Ancestors aid in the hours to come but it was better to expect the worse. And when had her life ever run smoothly, she thought with a wry smile.

At last, she could think of nothing else to do. She tidied her rooms for good measure and then went and stood out on the ledge, alarm growing in her chest. Where could Murmux possibly be and what was he doing? The sky over the castle was still busy thick with dragons and looking up, Candle wondered how long she needed to wait before she could leave with discretion. The rain had given way to a soft mist that ebbed and flowed around the castle spirals, providing the occasional view of the starlit sea. Perfect weather to aid in her escape.

As she gazed out over the dark mass of the ocean, something wet and sticky landed on her head. She touched a finger to it and raised the dark liquid to her nose. It was unmistakably blood. Murmux was on the roof and he was bleeding.